Saturday, September 12, 2009

WASHINGTON D.C. -- After three hours of marching, chanting anti-tax slogans and singing "God Bless America" Lewis Able Martin II of McClellanville, S.C., was hoarse and thirsty. So Martin chugged a two liter bottle of Coca Cola, which sated his thirst but led to an even more pressing issue: the need for relief.

Unfortunately for Martin, there are scant toilet facilities available on the National Mall. Martin's wife, Glory Lee Martin, had ducked into the Natural History Museum earlier in the day but the line for the popular museum -- as well as the ones closer to the east side of the Capitol, where the protestors had converged -- had grown to over 10 minutes. Martin didn't want to leave the march for that long for fear of missing his home state senator, Jim DeMint, speak.

Ms. Martin hadn't known where to find a toilet until she asked a National Park Service police officer, who politely suggested she try the nearby museum, which offers free admission. Asked why she was attending the protest, she said that she and her husband were protesting "waste, fraud, abuse and the millions of useless government bureaucrats wasting my hard-earned, illegitimately seized money."

When a reporter pointed out that the police officer's salary was paid for by federal government funds, Martin replied begrudgingly, "One good apple in a barrel of rotten ones doesn't make them all good."

Mr. Martin said that if there had been enough portable toilets provided the crisis would have been averted. "They hauled in a million port-a-potties for the inauguration of Parasite-in-Chief Obama," Martin said. "They should at least do the same for us patriots."

In fact, the Presidential Inaugural Committee paid for the 5,000 portable toilets set up for Obama's inauguration.

Martin -- before he stumbled off with a pained look and awkward gait -- said that he would be writing a letter of protest to DeMint, as well as his representative, Henry E. Brown Jr., also a Republican.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

HOLLYWOOD -- An elite tutoring service has sprung up and the founder's e-mail is being discretely passed from celebrity assistant to assistant.

The service, run by a former nanny to an A-list celebrity, is one that is seemingly very simple: it helps kids who come from wealthy, famous families learn about the real world and how to live in it. The founder of the service, who spoke on the condition of anonymity, said that she started it after her former celebrity boss commented on how difficult it was to raise children who had famous parents and let them have a "normal" childhood.

The then-nanny offered to have the children stay at her house for a couple of weeks as a kind of "real world boot camp" and teach them about how the other 99.99 percent of the population lives. The visit was such a success that her services have been in high demand ever since, with wealthy parents putting down $10,000 deposits to reserve weeklong slots for their children.

Among the first things that she does is to teach the children how to act normally in public. "Sunglasses are neither necessary nor a good disguise when it's overcast and 50 degrees," she tells them.

In fact, one child was so used to wearing sunglasses outside that he marveled at how coloful everything was without them. "It's more dazzling than mommy's jewelry collection," he said.

The other advice she imparts is to not run, cover their face or scowl when they saw someone with a camera, especially if they are not with their famously recognizable parent. "It's even possible that they want you to take their picture for them," she says.

She also teaches them to pose for pictures naturally, with their arms straight and at their sides. Many of the young girls, for instance, have taken up their moms' habit of putting their hand on their hip -- "to hide arm flab" -- or turning away from the camera and looking backwards over their shoulder.

For interacting with their peers, she gives advice such as not assuming that others will automatically know that "Uncle Steven" or "Uncle Jack" refer to Steven Spielberg and Jack Nicholson. Other no-nos include referring to "the Cape," "Martha's," "the City," or even Scientology.

Part of the boot camp includes a trip to a soup kitchen -- since many of her charges didn't know that they operated on days besides Thanksgiving or Christmas. They also practice going to the airport and taking a commercial flight in economy class, which entails waiting in the long security line.

Among the other concepts that have surprised her charges are the concept of hand-me-downs and dogs so big that they do not fit in a handbag.

The program has been so successful that the founder is currently seeking other middle class families with whom she can place celebrity children. One of the parents of her celebrity charges, a well known reality television producer, suggested that she make a reality TV show out of it, but she declined, saying that such cameras would detract from the mission of her program.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Embattled South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford sent a care package of bone-shaped biscuits to fellow South Carolina GOPer and Congressman Joe Wilson Wednesday night. "Welcome to the dog house. I'm so happy for the company! Love, Mark," said the note, according to an employee at Three Dog Bakery in Charleston who assembled the care package.

Sanford received his latest show of no confidence earlier in the day when 61 of 72 state House Republicans signed a letter calling on him to resign. Ever since it was revealed that his "hiking the Appalachian trail" was actually rendezvousing with an Argentine mistress his poll numbers have plummeted, and subsequent squirm-inducing interviews have not helped his case.

But all was forgotten Wednesday night as Wilson, with two words -- "You lie!" -- directed at President Obama during a live speech before Congress managed to take, at least for now, the mantle of most embarrassing Palmetto State politician.

Sanford had been watching the speech with a couple of interns. According to a friend of one of the attendees, Sanford chortled as soon as Wilson uttered the provocative words. He grew positively giddy when Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., said in an interview of Wilson's comment that there was "[n]o place for it in that setting or any other."

"Now the media bastards and those traitorous state legislators can focus their ire on someone else," Sanford apparently said. "I feel sorry for him, though. He's being unfairly maligned just like me."

Sanford has been living alone in the governor's mansion since his wife, Jenny Sanford, moved with her four sons to their home in Charleston. Although he invited his dwindling staff to watch the speech with him, all declined. "Those poor interns didn't know how to say no," said a staff member who continues to work for Sanford because of the ailing economy but who is actively seeking employment elsewhere.

Sanford's friends have also deserted him, with former political allies treating him like radioactive waste and personal friends shunning him and supporting his wife. "I think the guy just wants someone to share a pizza with," said the aide, when told of the care package. "He's hoping Joe can be that guy."